Who Are YOU?
by pamwhodeathforgot
Summary: Onmund hates how Relle won't let him go with her to Solstheim. Especially because she will be traveling with somebody else.
1. Welcome back?

Onmund looked up every time a boat creaked.

Waiting for Relle was terrible, absolutely horrible. The last time he had waited this long for her, she had gone off to Sovngarde and been almost killed by Alduin, gaining an arching scar across her torso and mental damage. It was only natural that he was anxious.

This time, however, she had not departed for the realm of the dead; instead, a small island off the northern coast of Morrowind had called out to her. Apparently, she had told Onmund through letters, whispers of a Dragonborn, Miraak, had sprung up there, and she had been attacked by his cultists upon entering Whiterun. He had been quite upset upon hearing that she was traveling alone.

"You can't!" He protested. "You remember what happened the last time you went out by yourself, don't you?" Onmund wrung his hands, following her around their house in Solitude as she neatly placed her belongings into her bag.

"I told you, this isn't like last time!" For the first time all day, Relle spun around to face him, a frustrated but still smiling expression on her face. "I'll be fine. Besides, I have everything planned ahead; mode of transportation, companion, I've got my gear all ready…"

"Companion," grumbled Onmund.

"Hey, hey! Look at me." She reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Standing up on the tips of her toes she kissed him once on the nose. "_I'll be fine,_" she repeated forcefully. Onmund let out a sigh, feeling not at all reassured. His feelings were obviously displayed on his face, and a more empathetic expression crossed hers. "I promise," her voice was barely more than a murmur, and she leaned in closer. "This won't be like last time."

In response, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her stomach, where her cropped top clearly displayed her jagged scar. He followed it from her hip, up to her ribcage, and down across her other hip, where Alduin's great maw had clamped over her. She took his hand, meeting his eyes, which had fled from hers. This time she kissed him on the lips, lingering for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Jordis, who happened to be walking by on her way our the door, giggled. Relle smiled and pulled away.

"I'm off to the market, my Thane," the Nord said as she exited. Relle told her to have fun before turning back to Onmund.

"… I believe you," he said reluctantly. "But I get to escort you to Windhelm. And I'll be staying at the inn while I wait."

She had agreed on his terms, and he had brought her to the snowy city and grabbed her hand before she boarded the boat. "Try not to find any attractive Dunmer men while you're there."

Her laughter rang throughout the docks, cutting through the cold air. She tilted her head up, but before she could kiss him he did so to her. "Try not to find any attractive anything while you're here," she said.

This brought a small smile to his face, his lips curling up. "There's nothing more attractive on Nirn than you." With that she had left, and the last he had seen of her was her pale face, turned toward him and waving as she floated out of sight.

He hated waiting.

And now, every time a boat in the harbor shifted, Onmund's eyes jerked up, his face lifting eagerly, thinking that it might be her boat. A book lay on his lap, but he hadn't turned a page in about an hour. His feet dangled off the edge of the dock, and every now and then water would splash his feet. Being a Nord, he wasn't cold in his cotton pants and shirt, even though snow swirled around him.

_ Creak._

_ False alarm._

_ Creak._

_ False alarm._

_ Creak._

Onmund almost prevented himself from looking up, but he did anyway. It hadn't been Relle all those other times. Why should this time be any different? But what he saw made his jaw drop, and made him extremely confused.

It was Relle's boat indeed; he could see her… sitting side by side with a man Onmund did not know. He was Dunmer, that was certain; his grey **skin** was clear. Relle, the man, and the ships captain were all laughing wildly at some joke. Their laughter only annoyed Onmund. The bubble that had built up inside him upon initially seeing her boat deflated slightly.

Why wasn't he entirely happy?

The boat pulled into the dock, and Onmund pushed himself into a standing position, wiping his soaked hair out of his face. The man extended a hand to Relle, who accepted it and he helped her out of the boat. She stepped out, and the second her feet hit the dock, she was off, running towards Onmund, her hand yanking out of the Dunmer's grasp. Her feet slapped the icy dock and she had soon jumped into Onmund's arms.

Her face nuzzled his neck; she wasn't tall enough to meet his lips. That bubble inside him swelled up, almost to the point of bursting, and he bowed his head to kiss her. He smiled. It felt as if the weight of the world had vanished from his shoulders.

The Dunmer man approached behind them and cleared his throat. Onmund recoiled, frowning, but kept his grip on the petite Breton's shoulders. "Excuse me," he said, in almost a drawl, red eyes narrowing.

Relle spun around in his arms, grinning at the Dunmer. "Oh! Introductions, that's right! Teldryn, this is Onmund. Onmund, this is Teldryn Sero, who has been traveling with me as my companion throughout Solstheim." She looked between the two of them, still smiling and apparently unaware of the tension between the two.

"Why are you back to soon? I thought you were staying in Solstheim for… a while?" Onmund pulled his gaze from the strange Dunmer and addressed Relle. He ignored the fact that he had been out on the docks every day for the past week and said, "I didn't expect you to return for another two weeks, at least. I mean," he added, upon seeing Relle's smirk, "not that I didn't want to see you, I just…" He laughed nervously. Maybe he would be a little more at ease if the elf wasn't watching him. Onmund was one of the few Nords not prejudiced against elves, but this one was different. He hate no reason to hate this one, and yet he did anyway.

"I missed you, so I came back!" Relle grinned widely. "But I'll only be here for a few days, so enjoy!"

Onmund grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away, muttering, "Give us a minute," to Teldryn. Once he had pulled her away, he growled, "I don't know who that guy is but I don't like him. Why can't I just come with you? I don't trust this _Teldryn_ fellow."

She scowled up at him. "I told you, he's my companion during this little adventure. I've made all the arrangements, and you haven't even met him! If you don't trust him, then please, at least trust me!"

"Well _I_ told _you_, I don't trust these mercenary types!" Their voices had raised; a few guards and a nearby Argonian, not to mention Teldryn, were watching them. "You could just bring me with you, at least then I wouldn't be up till midnight every night worrying about you!"

"I don't bring you along because I would rather have you remain _alive_! If you came with me and died under my watch, how do you think that would have made me feel?" She was shouting now, hands flung **apart**, dark eyes glaring at him.

"And how do you think I would feel if you died at the hands of some stranger?" Onmund was yelling too, but why? Why would he yell at her, of all people? The look in her eyes was killing him, but he continued anyway.

She looked like she had been struck. Tears welled up in her eyes, dragon eyes now, but didn't spill. "Teldryn and I will be at Candlehearth if you want to stop by." With that she turned around, grabbed Teldryn's hand, and vanished towards the gates of Windhelm.

Once she was gone, Onmund let out a growl and kicked the stone wall. Why had he been so stupid? Why had he shouted at her? _How dare he?_ He kicked the wall again, cursing. Of course, he would have to go after her. Maybe he should let her calm down first, or..? No, he should probably let her calm down first. Relle was a generally kind, peaceful girl, but if she truly was furious with him, Onmund would prefer to let her calm down. So instead of following her and pestering her, he went the opposite direction. He didn't know where he was walking, only of the weight dragging his footsteps and lowering his head.

He didn't realize it was night until it was too late. The sky seemed to suddenly darken, and Onmund was plunged into darkness. Windhelm had vanished behind a curtain of black and snow. He shivered. Yes, he was a Nord, and yes, he did resist cold better than others, but the cold was not the only thing making him tremble. It was Relle's absence, and the fact that she was somewhere else, in the company of some strange man he didn't know, angry at him.

Running his hands up and down his arms, he shivered again. If he could just get to Windhelm, just get to the inn, then he could see her, and make everything right.


	2. A Difficult Person to Stay Mad At

Struggling through the storm to get back to Windhelm was not fun. In fact, Onmund thought, it was the exact opposite of fun.

He was soaking, not to mention freezing, when he entered through Windhelm's main gates. The masked faces of the guards followed him as he entered, surely suspicious. He probably looked homeless.

Luckily Candlehearth wasn't too far away, and he slipped through the door as quietly as he could. Warmth seeped into his bones. A bard was strumming a lute and a fire crackled merrily along to the tune in the hearth.

"Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red..!"

Onmund carefully **scanned** the crowd, and there she was, laughing and clapping at the bard's song. Her beautiful face was lit with orange from the fire, and in this light her eyes looked like orange-tinged obsidian. They met his for a brief moment, and the laughter filled smile slid right off her face. Very suddenly the orange light vanished and her eyes hardened. Onmund shifted uncomfortably, but he jerked his head to the right, motioning to the private rooms, where they could talk in peace.

She stiffened and glanced around. Her eyes locked on Teldryn, who was entertaining some Nords with a story. Eyes flashing, she swiftly stood and vanished down the hallway.

He found her waiting for him in the furthest room. She was sitting on the bed, but stood when he entered.

Without a greeting, she said, "I don't appreciate how you acted." Her tone was careful and under control, as if she had practiced the line.

"I know," Onmund didn't dare approach her, not with the way her eyes burned into his. They had changed since he saw her by the fire; her pupils were vertical black slits, and the rest of her eyes, both whites and iris', were fiery orange and yellow. He had seen them before, whenever her dragon blood acted up. The last time he saw them… She was lying on what might have been her deathbed.

Her response was shifting her arms, placing her hands on her hips.

"I was…" He desperately tried to remember everything Brelyna had told him about apologizing to a women.

_"Keep in mind what you say to her. If she wants to talk to you about her emotions, let her talk. But if she's really angry at you, take careful note of what you did and, according to how she's feeling, apologize as necessary."_

"I was being… inconsiderate. And… Er… I'm sorry." Heat rushed to his cheeks.

Relle nodded for him to go on. A small smile had begun to curl her lips, and the fire in her eyes was fading. Finally she sat back down onto the bed.

"I think we both overreacted," she said quietly. "I'm sorry too. But… I need you to understand. I don't want to be responsible for another death. I don't know what is going on at Solstheim yet, and the last thing I want is for you to be put in danger because of me."

She had never mentioned being responsible for a death before. "What do you mean, 'another death'?"

It was the wrong thing to say. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything," she said, face flushing. Relle leaned back, not in a casual way, but as if she was trying to distance herself from him.

"I-" Onmund started to speak but was interrupted by a loud crash from the front room.

"WHERE IS THAT BASTARD? WHAT HAS HE DONE TO MY SISTER? I'LL KILL HIM!"

Unfortunately, Onmund recognized the voice. He stared wide-eyed at Relle, who laughed nervously.

"What did you tell you're sister?" He demanded, suddenly fearing for his life. Without hesitating he crossed the room in a single bound and grabbed Relle's shoulders. "What did you tell her?" He repeated, louder.

She laughed again, louder this time. "I sent her a letter from Solstheim telling her that I was coming back for a few days. To visit you," she added. "It must've only arrived a short while ago…"

The small smirk she wore infuriated him, but he couldn't help but note how adorable it looked on her.

Then he realized that he still had his hands on her shoulders, and that she wasn't shaking them off.

And then he realized how far behind things he was, because she had leaned forward so the tip of her nose brushed against his.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. As he moved his hand from the shoulder to the side of her face, he looked into her eyes and focus on how blue they were. Dark blue, like a bottomless pool. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset."

For the first time in a week a real smile broke across Onmund's face. He almost laughed, until something cold touched the back of his neck. A shudder ran down his spine.

"Hands to yourself," whispered the wielder of the knife.

Relle leaned back, preforming a backwards summersault across the bed before laughing louder than he had ever heard her laugh before. She actually wiped a tear from her eye.

"Oh that was great!" She hooted. Laughter made her go red in the face. "The look on your FACE!"

Behind him, the chill vanished as the person stepped back. Another voice joined Relle's, female, but lower.

"Celia," Onmund spat. "You're not as funny as you think you are!" He spun around.

Standing next to Relle was a women who was almost a spitting image of her; the same pale face, dark eyes, and curly black hair, only much taller and curvier. Her face was absent of freckles, though, and her hair wasn't nearly as long. She wore it tied back, showing off her dramatic widow's peak. As he watched, she tossed the dagger up, caught it again, and slid it back into the sheath strapped to her thigh, all in one seamless movement, as if she had done it before.

It unnerved him to see the two women standing next to each other. They were so similar, but so different. Relle was the petite little mage he had fallen for shortly after they met, while Celia was the tall and intimidating assassin. Beautiful, he supposed, but there was something in her cold, hard features that he couldn't get over. She always made him uneasy. But she was family to Relle, and that was all that mattered.

Celia's grin was sharp and mischievous, reminisce of a fox. "When I got Relle's letter saying that she was coming back to visit you, and of course, being the caring big sister that I am, I had to **check** on you two to make sure you didn't end up doing anything… naughty," her grin widened and she raised a single dark eyebrow.

Onmund flushed and avoided her eyes. She never really struck him as the protective type, but he saw that side of her now.

By this point Relle was grinning ear to ear. Her laughter had subsided, but the spark never left her eyes.

"I can't believe it!" He wailed. "Was that all a joke?"

For a second Relle appeared confused, and the grin fell from her face before she realized what he meant. "No, not all of it. I was really mad at you, but… You're a difficult person to stay mad at."

What Relle didn't notice was Celia raising an eyebrow and winking at Onmund. She pointed to him, then to Relle, and opened her mouth to say something, but froze. Her head tilted to the side and her eyebrows drew together. A bitter expression creeped onto her face.

"I have to go," she said abruptly. "You two try and get along, alright?" With that Celia Oslin turned and left the room, vanishing as suddenly as she appeared.

Relle wrapped her arms around herself, watching the door her sister left through. "I'm… sorry about her. I guess… I mean…" She smiled at him. They stood in silence, comfortable despite the situation. There were so many days they had spent together, studying in silence, **completely** at ease with each others presence.

She crossed the floor and closed the space between them, tilting her head back and pressing her lips to his. When she pulled away, she said quietly, "You can come with me. You just have to promise not to do anything… rash. Anything that we'll both regret. Because I couldn't bear to lose you."

"Hey," he touched her cheek, just under her eye. "We'll be fine. We've gone through too much."

What Onmund meant, he didn't exactly know. Not only did they make it through many physical trials, including Alduin's reign of terror, but they survived plentiful emotional and mental damage as well. Their relationship was one that neither thought would progress as far as it did, but they were willing to try. He didn't want to loose her.

But as she smiled at him, he couldn't help but hope.


End file.
